DRUG WAR COWBOYS

The DEA May Finally Get Its Man

In the drug trade, the Sinaloan Cowboys are said to be the kings of
the stone-cold killers.

In fact, though, when the Sinaloans need an unsavory hit, they call
the hillbillies from Michoacan.

"The guys from Michoacan are known in Sinaloa for not losing any
sleep over anything," says a DEA agent who has worked in the region.
"They are the ones known for being the really terrible bad-asses."

The agents of the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration might not have
tumbled to the Michoacan factor if it weren't for the 1994 killing of
a DEA agent in Glendale, Arizona.

The murder of undercover agent Richard Fass during a drug sting
triggered a six-year manhunt through Mexico for Agustin
Vasquez-Mendoza, who the DEA believes masterminded the killing. Fass
was attempting to buy 22 pounds of methamphetamines from two
associates of Vasquez when, allegedly under Vasquez's orders, the two
robbed and shot the agent seven times.

The manhunt ended in July with the capture of Vasquez at a phone
booth in Tehuacan, Puebla. For the past six months, Vasquez has been
sitting in a jail outside Mexico City, fighting his extradition to
Phoenix.

That fight should be nearly over. A Mexican federal judge is expected
to rule December 21 on Vasquez's final appeal. He'll either decide
the case needs further review or, as DEA officials hope, release
Vasquez to the DEA for transport to Sky Harbor Airport.

"It would be a wonderful Christmas present for the Fass family," says
DEA special agent Jim Molesa. "We're hopeful, but we also know these
things can drag on."

Besides finally snagging Vasquez, the DEA manhunt opened a stream of
intelligence about drug operations in the rugged mountains
surrounding Apatzingan, Michoacan, an area the DEA now believes is
one of the wellsprings of America's burgeoning meth problem. And it's
a stream of information the DEA hopes to keep flowing long beyond the
extradition of Vasquez.

"As we were looking for Agustin, we began seeing these 100-pound
shipments of ephedrine coming into Apatzingan and 100-pound shipments
of meth coming out of the mountains," says the Phoenix-based DEA
agent who led the hunt for the fugitive. "At the same time, we were
hearing about all these Michoacan license plates coming up in drug
investigations around the United States.

"Because of Agustin, we were in a region neither the DEA nor the
[Federales] would have been in. And because of that, we believe we
got a jump on fighting the Mexican meth trade."

DEA agents attribute the arrests of more than three dozen fugitives
in Mexico and the United States to the Vasquez hunt.

The lead DEA agent, who asked not to be identified for safety
reasons, likely will be returning to Michoacan to work with Mexican
federal and state police in their investigations of the meth trade.

"We have a positive relationship there and there is so much work left
to do," the agent says. "We just hope the cooperation can continue."

For sure, the relationship between the DEA and the Mexican government
in the hunt for Vasquez has not always been positive. The
investigation was clouded with numerous accusations of human-rights
violations, particularly by Vasquez-Mendoza's large family. The
Mexican government pulled back support from the DEA several times.
And frequent assassinations of local police officials who helped the
DEA began eroding the will of local law enforcement. DEA agents were
sometimes not allowed to carry firearms in the region, known for its
virulent drug trade, chaotic clan politics and the casual ferocity of
its violence.

The hunt began in a Glendale strip mall, where Richard Fass, a
37-year-old father of four working his last day as a DEA agent in
Phoenix, met two men for a meth buy. Instead of a sale, though, the
supposed dealers apparently planned a robbery and execution. The two
men opened fire on Fass. Fass fired back, wounding one man, but was
then hit by a fusillade of bullets.

Juan Rubio Vasquez was chased down by officers near the scene.
Agustin Cordova-Cuevas fled in a car but was stopped and arrested. He
had a bullet wound in his side.

But the alleged mastermind of the plan, Vasquez, made it out of
Phoenix, into Mexico and on toward the mountains of Michoacan. U.S.
and Mexican authorities spent the next six years looking for him.

Police interrogated members of Vasquez's expansive family and were
accused of myriad human-rights violations. Death threats began
flowing into the Apatzingan office of the federal judicial police.
Several police throughout the region were assassinated. Police were
accused of beating witnesses and hanging them from hovering
helicopters to extract information.

A Mexican human rights group investigated and found no wrongdoing. In
1998, the FBI put Vasquez on its 10 Most Wanted List, the reward was
raised to $2.2 million and federal officials began a media blitz to
generate leads.

Six DEA agents and four Mexican federal agents were assigned
full-time to the manhunt. Mexican officials began making arrests
throughout Michoacan of suspected meth makers and runners. More
accusations of human-rights violations followed.

As the investigation intensified, Mexican and U.S. agents began to
understand the extent of Michoacan's rule in the U.S. meth trade.
Massive amounts of ephedrine were being flown into Apatzingan and
then transported into remote areas, areas Mexican state and federal
police shy away from. The ephedrine was being cooked in mountain
labs, then brought back to Apatzingan for transport to the United
States.

Michoacan drug runners were being apprehended throughout the United
States, particularly in the rural Midwest and the West Coast.
Six-figure money wires to Michoacan were coming from as far north as
Yakima, Washington. "All the biggest wires from some of these cities
on the West Coast were flowing into Michoacan," the agent says. "And
this wasn't money back from [people working] construction to their
family. This was big money."

In 1999, Mexican and U.S. agents were getting numerous tips that
Vasquez had fled Michoacan for Compeche. They learned, too, that he
had a new wife.

Federales and DEA agents chased Vasquez through Compeche into Puebla.
There, they learned that Vasquez was making regular phone calls from
a telephone booth to his wife's family.

Using high-tech surveillance equipment, DEA officials pinpointed the
phone booth from which the couple was making calls. They staked out
the booth and, a few days later when Vasquez and his wife showed up
to make another call, agents nabbed him.

Vasquez was flown to Mexico City to verify he was the correct
suspect. Once he was identified, U.S. officials in Arizona and
Washington began flooding Mexican officials with what they hoped was
the evidence and paperwork necessary to get Vasquez extradited.

For any hope of extradition, U.S. officials had to agree that they
would not seek the death penalty, which is not allowed under Mexican
law. Mexico's foreign minister also has not allowed Vasquez to face a
conspiracy murder charge and aggravated assault charges that American
prosecutors had filed against him. Still, seven counts remain,
including first-degree murder.

"We've had some real good cooperation with a number of Mexican
prosecutors," says Tom Hannis, an assistant U.S. attorney who is
handling the case.

On November 30, Vasquez filed his last appeal in an attempt to
prevent extradition. If that appeal is denied, Vasquez could be on a
plane to Phoenix.

That's a big could, though, according to U.S. attorneys and DEA officials.

"We could be in limbo again, too," the assistant U.S. attorney says,
referring to the convoluted appeals process that could continue at
the judge's whim.

If and when Vasquez arrives in Phoenix, he will be turned over to
Glendale police and then delivered for his initial appearance in
Maricopa County court. He then probably will be transferred to
Maricopa County Jail. Expect a media blitz.

"It's a big deal, and once he comes, we're going to spread the word,"
Molesa says. "So many people in several different agencies in the
U.S. and Mexico worked so many long, dangerous hours on this case.
They deserve a little appreciation for a job well done."